


a simple change of seasons

by lukeran



Category: THE9 (Band), 偶像练习生 | Idol Producer (TV)
Genre: F/F, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:34:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24683905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lukeran/pseuds/lukeran
Summary: The time for Yuxin and Xiaowei to separate had finally come, but it felt too soon.Xiaowei thought, no matter what, it would always be too soon.
Relationships: Liu Yuxin/Duan Xiaowei
Kudos: 12





	a simple change of seasons

_ Saltwater. _ If Xiaowei just focused on the taste of saltwater, the continued stream of tears on her lips, she could try to forget everything else.

“Why are you crying? Come on,” Yuxin prodded. She tried to make her voice sound playful, tried to tease Xiaowei, but from somewhere in her vocal chords, the sound just came out too harsh, too discordant. Xiaowei didn’t want to look in her eyes.

“You know why I’m crying, Yuxin,” she answered between sniffles. She looked straight ahead, out into the night sky, trying not to let her cries become loud, hysterical sobs.

Yuxin stood silently, letting out a sigh that Xiaowei could hardly hear. She wouldn’t look directly at Yuxin, as if she was some big, bright sun that could blind her, but she could see her posture shift out of the corner of her eye. A soft crumble as Yuxin ran a distressed hand through her hair. 

Xiaowei squeezed her eyes shut. One, two, three. Three teardrops squeezed out, down her cheeks and into her mouth. Salt. Her hands held tightly onto the balcony’s ledge, as if it was supporting her body’s weight.

Yuxin spoke softly into the night air. “I’m sorry, Xiaowei.”

“For what?” she asked, voice cracking.

Another long pause, a drawn-out breath. A tear trickled down Xiaowei’s cheek. 

“Just sorry. You’d be better off if we hadn’t gotten involved.”

Xiaowei’s eyes opened, stinging slightly from the tears. She forced herself to look at Yuxin, head down. “Hey. That’s not true.” Her voice was quiet, shaky. She wasn’t sure if the words would come out at all. 

She cursed herself for being a crybaby. Her mother said she was always that way from the time she was a baby.

Yuxin shook her head. The light was dim, but Xiaowei could see her eyes closed, eyebrows furrowed in tension. The expression looked pained.

“All this time I took from you. You could’ve focused more. You could’ve…” she trailed off. Xiaowei had never seen Yuxin cry, but she could tell by the way her voice trembled that she was holding back tears. She cleared her throat. “You could’ve just been sad to leave, not heartbroken.”

Xiaowei took a deep breath in. People always said to do that in times of stress, like if you just get enough oxygen in your body, every bad feeling would float away on the exhale. It didn’t work, and instead the breath wavered as it went in and out. Her insides felt shaky.

“I’d hate it if I hadn’t met you,” Xiaowei said quietly, looking up at the stars. The sky was deep, dark blue against a few tiny glistening stars.

“You wouldn’t know the difference if it never happened.”

Xiaowei looked at Yuxin, her tiny frame, her dainty hands gripping the railing. She was so slight, so small, but everything else about her was strong and powerful. She wondered how the universe put together such an unstoppable force within such a fragile-looking mold. The wind blew a bit, and Xiaowei shuddered.

She moved her hand over to where Yuxin’s held the rail, Yuxin’s hand instinctively moving to grip Xiaowei’s. “I am glad that we met, Yuxin.”

“I shouldn’t have pursued you. I knew eventually we had to go our separate ways.” She squeezed Xiaowei’s hand ever so slightly. Xiaowei felt her heart lurch in response.

“No,” she responded with a giggle, shaky through her tears. “I would’ve whined about you too much if you hadn’t.”

Yuxin looked at Xiaowei. Pain, so much pain was in her eyes, even as she tried to force a smirk. Xiaowei could feel in every fiber of her being why heartbreak was the subject of every song, every movie, every book. It was too much to bear.

“I’m sorry,” Yuxin said once more.

Xiaowei let a few more tears fall before she spoke again. “You need to take care of yourself.”

“I’m an adult, Xiaowei. Don’t worry about me,” she said, her voice slightly raspy.

Xiaowei squeezed her hand tight. “I’ll worry about you because you’re awful at taking care of yourself. You need to. I need you to.”

Yuxin’s face looked blank, but somewhere deep inside, Xiaowei could see so much. So much hidden within her that she only let out in the smallest increments. In the darkness, she saw her eyes shining, and she could swear it might be tears.

“I know I’m being selfish,” Xiaowei said, her voice shaking as tears continued to fall harder, “but I need you to be happy and healthy and okay.”

She didn’t want to sob, to make this harder for Yuxin, to leave with such an awful memory behind them. But she was hurting, she was so afraid. She felt a strange feeling of loss, bitterness that filled her mouth and made everything around her seem so sour. 

“Duan Xiaowei…” Yuxin said. She didn’t speak another word before pulling Xiaowei into a hug, soft yet so strong, something deeply familiar between the two of them. Xiaowei cried into her shoulder, the fabric of Yuxin’s shirt quickly becoming damp with tears. She rubbed Xiaowei’s back lightly, and Xiaowei heard soft sniffles coming from Yuxin. Between tears, she breathed in Yuxin’s scent — musky but sweet, not too strong, just faint traces of a warm, comforting smell.

Nothing about this moment felt right. Neither of them came to this place looking for this, and yet it had fallen into place so easily. They had no plan for the future, no realistic step forward. What they had together were tiny escapes, moments where everything else could shut off. Now the reality was here, and it hit too hard, too fast. This whole time had been spent preparing, yet neither of them were prepared.

Yuxin shifted, pulling out of the hug. She held Xiaowei’s face in her hands, thumbs caressing her round cheeks, lightly wiping tears away. Xiaowei could now see that Yuxin had been crying too. “I promise to look after myself.”

Xiaowei smiled a small smile. She felt a faint sense of relief, but it passed quickly. “You need to eat lots,” she began. “You need to sleep earlier.” Her tears fell quicker, forcing her to pause. “You need… to treat yourself kindly, Yuxin.”

Xiaowei knew with a sense of sad familiarity that Yuxin was independent to a fault. She would never willingly rely on anyone to care for her, but she rarely took proper care of herself. She would trade sleep for endless hours of practice. She hardly gave herself time to think, time to decompress. She worked and worked and worked, and even then, she worked more. Xiaowei would try to pry her out of the practice room, eventually falling asleep sitting against the wall. Only then would Yuxin stop, and she swore it was only to tuck Xiaowei safely into bed.

Still, with this knowledge, Xiaowei looked deep into Yuxin’s eyes, pleading with her to give some sort of promise, something that could ease her mind. Xiaowei felt selfish, so selfish wanting her to be well just for her own peace of mind. But she knew if Yuxin didn’t do what Xiaowei was asking, she risked her own health, her own wellbeing. The thought alone terrified her.

Yuxin nodded softly, then again with more conviction. “I can do that,” she spoke in a hushed tone. Her words were soft and sweet, as gentle as the dainty fingers that held Xiaowei’s face. Xiaowei felt the warmth of comfort envelop her entire being.

“Thank you,” Xiaowei said, squeezing her eyes shut, forcing more tears to escape.

“Thank  _ you _ ,” Yuxin whispered. 

Eyes still closed, Xiaowei felt Yuxin’s lips tenderly kiss one cheek, then the other. Just a ghost of a kiss, a light touch, but enough to send a chill down her spine. Yuxin was the strongest, the bravest, the silent but deadly powerhouse. But Xiaowei also knew she was gentle and slight, timid and thoughtful. What defined her wasn’t only her strength but her fragility. Xiaowei wished to be half the person Yuxin was.

“Keep working hard, Xiaowei,” Yuxin said quietly. That was love to Yuxin — work hard, work harder, find success, be happy. “For me. For you.”

Before Xiaowei could reply, Yuxin’s lips were on hers. She inhaled hard, feeling her breath taken away just like the first time they kissed. This kiss was wet with tears, their cheeks, their lips, teary and salty and somehow still sweet. Yuxin’s presence was steady, but tonight it was also light, soft. Xiaowei gripped onto Yuxin’s waist, feeling the warmth from her body and letting everything else slip away.

Yuxin’s lips moved against Xiaowei’s with purpose, every moment feeling intentional, designed by some higher power. Xiaowei breathed everything in even as her head swam, let herself hold Yuxin tight, stray tears slipping out all the while. She knew things would become uncertain, even more uncertain than before, after this moment. She just breathed it all in.

When they eventually parted, Xiaowei felt a stillness within her, as if the quiet of their surroundings had seeped into her being and hushed all the noise. Their foreheads pressed together for a silent moment. Xiaowei wished that every star in the night sky could hear her wordless wish. She wished for Yuxin, always Yuxin.

**Author's Note:**

> hello all, thank you for reading!! much appreciated :^)  
> hopefully i will be writing more about the9 and my qcyn2 favs!!
> 
> follow me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/keranlover) if you'd like to be friends hehe


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